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Chapter 6

  • “Call your workplace. They need to know you'll be taking sick leave for a month,” A. ordered when they got back to the house. He headed to the panoramic windows in the kitchen and examined the forest outside. Then he opened the fridge.
  • “I know. You don't have to tell me.” Monica rolled her eyes and put her bag on the table. She studied him. What had he meant in the car? What was he talking about? Not get attached? She? Why would she?
  • A. groaned and shut the door.
  • “This food won't be enough even for a few days. We need to buy more.”
  • “Wow, I thought I saved a big wolf, but now, I feel like I got myself a grandma,” she commented, irritated at his quizzical way of speaking. She wanted to know more.
  • A. lifted a brow and crossed his arms. He looked more human now, dressed in ordinary clothes. He almost looked... humanly handsome, not the beastly, bad boy kind.
  • “Someday, after this all is over, I'm going to repay you. I give you my word,” he said in a serious voice that made her get goosebumps.
  • Monica snorted, surprised at herself for her unusual reaction. “I wonder how that will happen. You don't even have an ID. Or do you? Do you have a bank account? A house, perhaps?” She raised her brow in return, and A. smirked.
  • He turned around, clenching and unclenching his fists a few times. He lifted his hands, looking at them for a long moment, and shoved them in the pockets of his jeans.
  • ...
  • Monica woke up, seduced by a mouth-watering smell. She stood up from the couch in the living room and sauntered to the kitchen. What she found there made her mouth fall wide open.
  • The werewolf was preparing the table, and some spaghetti with sauce seductively shone on two plates in front of him.
  • He jerked his head to her, keeping his tongue tied, and sat on the chair.
  • “Two plates?” She took the other chair and glanced at him. She couldn't believe her eyes.
  • “Just eat,” he barked and dug in his own plate.
  • Well, if he said so. She grabbed her utensils and eyed the food. It looked fine. More than fine, actually. And it was tempting her to try it. Nobody had cooked her in so long that she had forgotten what it was like. But... small doubt pierced her chest. It couldn't be poisoned, right?
  • Monica glanced up at the wolf and watched the way he was grimly eating his own portion. His eyes were focused on it, ignoring everything else around. She let out a breath and took the first bite. The awkwardness reminded her of that one time she had let a boy in her class copy from her, and they had been called to the principal's office. Ever since then, complete silence unnerved her. It made her feel like she was waiting for trial or something bad.
  • She always felt like she belonged in the middle of the crowd, talking and having the time of her life. She wanted to be a part of something bigger, something warmer, and connected. It was something she was going to achieve as soon as possible. It was in her plan, and she was going to return to it the second this man left her life. He was just a temporary setback. Maybe just a test. A push for her to give it her all and remain focused on her goals. A career, renovating the villa and, in a few years, finding a man who could warm her bed for the rest of her life. Her perfect plan.
  • ...
  • Much to her surprise, as time passed, Monica also became a bit more comfortable around the wolfman. He hadn't even laid a finger on her, and he could've hurt her. So many times at that. A sense of relative security washed over her.
  • The only thing A. did, except cooking and staring into nothing, was to train outside. He did it from dusk till dawn. Every single day for almost a week. He jumped on a rope, hit the bark of a tree, until it finally broke and bent, did push-ups, and all this stuff. He was preparing for something. Monica was sure of that. But for what?
  • By looking at him from the sidewalk, it really seemed that he was getting ready to go to war. He kind of reminded her of those martial arts movies and the period the main character did nothing but upgrade his fighting skills. While it amazed her in movies and she nearly drooled at them, now it made her skin crawl. Her guts kept flipping over with dread and uncertainty. What was he going to face? Was it going to get to her world too? Were the humans in danger?
  • She swallowed and strolled to the man, trying her best to look unafraid and cocky.
  • “Why are you training like this? You seem really obsessed with it,” she asked, putting her hand on her waist. A light gust of wind blew some of her wavy hair in her face, and she mentally swore because she wasn't able to tie it up. It also ruined her moment of badass bravery and confidence. Curse her broken arm!
  • A. glanced at her and stopped jumping. He lifted his arm and wiped some of the sweat on his face, shutting one of his eyes for a moment.
  • Monica pursed her lips, and something in her chest tightened.
  • “You know, if you cut your hair and beard,” she blurted out, “you wouldn't feel so hot. It would also make you look younger.” Her curiosity was bursting at the seams. There had to be something he would slip and she'd grab like the key to a treasure room. She needed something to calm her nerves.
  • A. glared at her. “I'm just a year older than you.”
  • She blushed at that statement. Was it too late to hide all her documents now?
  • “Oh? Prove it.” She lifted her chin, not willing to give up.
  • “No,” he grumbled and headed to the nearby tree he had made crumble.
  • She followed him.
  • “Why not? Are you lying? Are you the grandma I thought you are?” she continued, but when he finally whirled around, his eyes raging with anger, she halted.
  • “Mind your own business!” A. snarled, and her breath hitched. Monica fought the desire to step back and locked her muscles in place. If he wanted her help, he could learn to live with her and take her seriously.
  • “I am!” She gave him a nasty look. “I need to know who my temporary tenant is! How can I live with you otherwise?”
  • A.'s gaze darkened, and he took a few slow, deliberate steps towards her. A stone fell on her body, and it shuddered at his menacing aura and evil eyes. SHe'd thought she could provoke him a bit for information, but she wasn't sure if she already regretted that. His demeanor made her feel like she'd crossed a fucking line, and he was so pissed off that he could eat her like the big scary wolf.
  • She took a step back as he ate the distance between them. Her heart was wailing in anxiety.
  • “Stop fucking questioning me!” he threatened with a strong voice. “Don't fucking think that a mere human like you can be my friend! You're disgusting me!” A. spat, his whole face twisting in disdain and rage. It was something Monica hadn't expected. At least not with such hot passion.
  • She stopped moving back, and he got so close to her that she could feel his heat and breath on her forehead. His body heat was so different from hers, and in just a few seconds, she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her neck.
  • “So, you hate humans?” she asked and lifted her gaze to him. Her guts were wrenching and forming knots in nervousness and anticipation, but here she was again, playing with fire. She hoped she wouldn't get burned.
  • For a tiny second, Monica noticed the surprised gleam in A.'s eyes, but then they returned to their natural ocean-like color. He frowned.
  • “Are you out of your mind to challenge me?” he asked with a low voice and squinted, making his straight nose wrinkle.
  • “I'm not challenging you. I just want to know more. Besides, you said you wouldn't hurt me.” She shrugged and shifted her head to get a better look at him and to pretend she was stronger than she actually was.
  • “And you believe me?” A. folded his arms, and his tank top got stuck to them like a glue of sweat. He was overexerting himself.
  • “You gave me your word. If you wanted to do it, you would have a long time ago. You've been here for three weeks total.” She stubbornly ignored the threat in his words. She wanted to trust her guts. He wasn't going to hurt her, and that was it.
  • “You're really irresponsible to your own life.” He curtly shook his head, still frowning.
  • “Maybe I'm choosing to trust you?” Monica blinked, and a small smug smile appeared on her face. She was nailing this. Her madness could turn out useful.
  • A. remained silent, just staring. The more he stared, the darker the aura around him became. His tension shot to an unimaginable extent, and his jaw clenched tight.
  • Before she could register his bizarre reaction, her phone started buzzing, and she took it out of her pocket. Seeing who it was, she huffed.
  • “Yeah?” She walked towards the bench.
  • “You cuckoo!” Connor shrieked in the microphone, and she flinched. “I heard you broke your arm, and you didn't even call me!”
  • “Why should I call you, Connor? It's not like I'm on my deathbed.” She could sense someone's figure behind her back, and this reminded her of his warmth and the way it felt. She bit her lip.
  • “Of course you'd call me! What are you talking about? I'm your best friend, and I deserve to know everything! How did it happen? When?” Connor threw these questions at her, making her feel even tenser. She just escaped an uncomfortable situation, why did she have to get into another one so soon?
  • Monica sighed and turned around, hoping to surprise her stalker. However, when she did, she turned to be right in front of his face, again in the span of five minutes. Her mouth watered, and she felt like she had drunk a ton of water. She needed to swallow but found it so hard to do. It was making butterflies run around like crazy in her stomach.
  • “Mon? Mon, hello?!” her friend yelled in the device.
  • “Are you following me?” she teased A. once more, barely mumbling it. Where were her words coming from? She really was a cuckoo.
  • “What?! What do you mean?” Connor exclaimed.
  • A. bobbed his head to make her answer him. He'd let her have her phone in his presence, but he was like a listening spy device and always had to know who was calling. It was a good thing she wasn't much of a talker on the phone. The only people she seldomly talked to were her parents, Connor, and the vet clinic.
  • “Look, Connor, I'm totally fine! Don't worry about me! I need some rest, so I'm going to hang up for now! I'll call you soon,” she said and ended the call, letting her arm lay next to her hip.
  • “Good job. But don't trust people so easily,” A. said and turned around, continuing with his exercise.
  • Did he mean himself? Sure, she could've told Connor to call the police or something, but then... Her heart clenched in pain. She didn't want to. She didn't know why, but she wanted to know more about this weird man, his world, and the things he'd gone through.